


Hold Me In Your Palm

by SlappyCat



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/F, Post-Time Skip, Sexual Content, brief descriptions of gore, just jacking off your bro cuz she has a broken arm, post war but pre twsitd getting pwned, this fic can just be summed up as lysithea is horny and edelgard is sentimental
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-18
Updated: 2020-03-18
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:49:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23204992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlappyCat/pseuds/SlappyCat
Summary: Hold me now until my blood begins to flow
Relationships: Edelgard von Hresvelg/Lysithea von Ordelia
Comments: 8
Kudos: 170





	Hold Me In Your Palm

**Author's Note:**

> Title and summary from lyrics of the song Children by Black City Lights

The blast of magic hits Lysithea like a hammer, searing and blackened and burning with a sickening crack. She feels the bone in her arm shatter, flesh pulped and leaking from her skin. She almost bites her tongue off holding in a scream as she collapses. Lysithea can smell the rotten tang of meat burned by black magic as the grass, red and charred, comes up to meet her.

Everything around her sounds dulled, muffled behind a ringing that fills her ears. A wave of pain induced nausea washes over her, and Lysithea does everything in her power to not black out. A voice tries to break through the thick fog of her senses, and Lysithea is vaguely aware that her blood is pooling too thickly into the dirt.

A loud thud cracks like thunder. Lysithea sees through the spots in her vision as an enemy mage breaks his neck on the ground, a bloody chunk carved out of him. She manages to conjure the thought that he was the bastard that blasted her.

Lysithea’s body feels cold. Shock, she supposes. Maybe blood loss, too. The nausea has been replaced by numbness at this point, and she barely registers the hand that holds her steady on her uninjured arm and a different hand that expels green magic into her damaged one. She now feels lightheaded, and she does vomit as she can feel her shattered bone try to pull itself back into place. She hears the person attempting to heal her arm retch himself, and she then knows it is Linhardt.

Before she succumbs to unconsciousness, she looks away and sees red and white, and Aymr gripped tightly in armored fingers. Her last thought is how embarrassing it was to faint in Edelgard’s arms as she does.

~

Lysithea flutters her eyes, lids pinching at light pinpricking her vision. She’s conscious and, quite honestly, wishes she wasn’t. Her head is constricted with a headache and her arm lays slung across her torso, stiff and soaked with dull pain. She huffs out an angry sigh as she opens her eyes fully.

She shifts in the cot, noticing the loose fitting, black and off-white garb she had been changed into, worn and thick. A pair of trousers that were much too long and an ill-fitting shirt that she could tell was much too big.

Manuela is suddenly hovering over her, Linhardt at her side. The green of his hair seems to have seeped into his cheeks, as Lysithea notes he looks rather queasy.

“You had a very nasty blow out in the battlefield. Even our best healers weren’t able to repair that awful case of black magic in one go.” She nudges Linhardt next to her as he looks to be on the verge of gagging again. “Linhardt here had to deal with the more… messy part of it.”

“Disgusting,” he mutters. “You should know better than to go and get yourself hurt like that. Cleaning up after the mess that was your arm was, quite frankly, one of the most revolting things I’ve seen in my life.” He raises a hand to his mouth, pointedly looking away. Lysithea scowls viciously.

“Oh, fuck off.” She sinks deeply into the lumpy pillow of her cot.

Manuela gasps in mock surprise, and Linhardt just rolls his eyes. He turns swiftly away, clearly intent on leaving as soon as possible. Manuela watches him go with a bemused smirk hiding behind a delicately raised hand.

“My, my, quite the mouth on us today, Lysithea.” She rests the hand on her collarbone now, smile in full force. “I suspect you’re rather upset about finding yourself here.”

Lysithea’s scowl deepens. “Of course I am. I don’t have time to be injured, much less time to heal from an injury so bad magic can’t even put it back together.” She leans up a little too fast and feels her broken arm twinge. A flash of sincere worry crosses Manuela’s expression.

“Careful, now, we weren’t kidding when we said it was a nasty break. We managed to heal all of it, but it’s still broken. We were able to fix the skin, put the muscles back in place, and even make the break a clean one.” She flashes an apologetic smile. “But, of course, it is still broken. Give it a couple days and we may be able to put a little faith into it again.” She winks at this.

Lysithea just rolls her eyes, now propped up against the wall.

“You’re at least not going to confine me to this bed for the remainder of this nuisance, are you?” Lysithea asks.

Manuela shakes her head. “No, no, you need not be caged like a bird. Besides, we’re running short on cots and I’d rather give them to those who we can actually help immediately.” She crosses her arms, but her tone is light. “Sorry about your clothes, by the by. We only had soldier uniforms left and well… you were covered in a lot of blood.”

Lysithea only shrugs as she swings her legs over the side of the cot, feet touching down on the stone floor. “It’s no concern of mine to wear whatever you’ve put me in. And you can have the cot.” She stands with only the barest wave of dizziness, and brushes her non injured hand down her too long shirt. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have more important business to attend to.” She pauses only briefly to shuffle her scuffed shoes from out underneath the bed.

Manuela humorously bows her head and Lysithea snorts at her. She then turns on her heel, striding steadfast out of the medical ward. She had been intent on getting some reading done the past few days, Hubert having brought back a few interesting tomes from his recent escapades that he was reluctantly willing to hand over to her. They were procured from a stronghold of Those Who Slither in the Dark, and upon hearing this Lysithea was determined to scour over every word in the dusty books.

Lysithea rounds the corner and is immediately knocked back, feet losing their balance as she feels herself fall. Before she can truly teeter off the edge of her heel, she is caught in a strong grip, enveloped in a flourish of red. Edelgard looks startled, hands firm on Lysithea’s shoulders.

Lysithea can feel her ears burning, an inevitable affliction when being this close to Edelgard. She does her best to keep her face straight as she looks Edelgard in the eye.

“Ow,” she says.

That jumpstarts Edelgard back into motion, and she very quickly pulls them both back into standing positions, hands retreating to her sides in a blur. She looks to Lysithea’s arm in its sling, concern lacing her brow.

“I apologize, I did not mean to run into you so brashly.” She looks back up at Lysithea’s face, hands clasping and fidgeting almost imperceptibly beneath the enveloping shawl of her cape. “How is your arm? Linhardt told me you were awake and I came… rather in a rush, I’m embarrassed to admit.”

Lysithea coughs and then shrugs, lifting her broken arm as much as she could in its sling. “Arm is broken. Manuela says they should be able to fix it up proper in a few days.” She sighs wearily. “For now, I’m stuck with it.”

Edelgard nods thoughtfully, a hand now raised in contemplation against her lips. Lysithea averts her gaze back to Edelgard’s eyes when she realizes she had been staring at them.

“I see,” Edelgard says. “I must say I’m not surprised. Whatever spell that was, it was rather vile. Hubert hasn’t seen anything like it before, said it may be a new spell Those Who Slither have developed.” She looks up at Lysithea now, eyes steeled in an analytic curiosity. “I’m honestly quite impressed you didn’t faint on impact.”

Lysithea now feels the heat in her ears threatening to spread into her cheeks, and she furrows her brow in a desperate attempt to keep the blush at bay. She had almost forgotten about falling like dead weight into Edelgard’s arms. She is filled with both shame and a lingering desire to have Edelgard holding her again. She bites the inside of her cheek.

“I’m more concerned about my broken arm rather than my constitution, thank you.” She masks her embarrassment with a snide remark. Edelgard laughs lightly into her hand.

“I suppose that’s fair.” She taps a finger against her bottom lip, a thought flicking through her eyes. “I suspect you would be interested in discussing with Hubert the details on the spell that put you in such a state.” She smiles. “He’s usually not far behind, so I’m certain I can point you in the right direction to him.”

Quite honestly, Lysithea was intrigued by the spell; however, those tomes were calling to her with the information they contained, and she highly doubted a mysterious new spell would be giving her what she was looking for.

She shakes her head. “As interesting as that is, I actually already have work of my own. Hubert gave me some tomes he recently acquired.”

Edelgard perks up, knowing immediately the tomes Lysithea is referring to and now showing keen interest. “Oh? You managed to pry them from Hubert’s grasp? Once again, you impress me.” Her smile is small but mirthful. Lysithea can’t help but smile back.

“I have my ways.”

Edelgard laughs again, a light and lilting sound that shoots an arrow straight through Lysithea’s chest. She wills the thumping of her own heart down.

“Would you mind if I joined you? I don’t understand spells much myself, and I am rather interested in what information those books may offer.”

“Deciding over me or Hubert? You need more friends, Edelgard.” Lysithea laughs at the pout that forms on Edelgard’s face.

“This is a matter of progress, not one of dalliances.” Her expression is stern, but Lysithea can hear playfulness underlaying her voice. Her expression falters from her hardened expression, now one of a sheepish nature. “Besides, I must be rather frank. As much as Hubert is very dear to me, I would rather spend the precious free moments I have with… someone else, at least every now and then.”

Lysithea feels an excited thrumming in her veins and covers it up with a scoff she hopes doesn’t sound too nervous. “Well, who am I to deny the emperor her free time?”

Edelgard rolls her eyes. “Please, enough with the ‘emperor’ nonsense. I’m already at my limit with Bernadetta.”

Lysithea just laughs, the frenetic hum in her blood simmering down to a warmer and more comforting buzz.

They make their way down the corridors to Lysithea’s quarters, the stone echoing the click of their feet. Lysithea becomes acutely aware of the heels Edelgard wears, and then the fact that Lysithea was still taller than her. It fills her with something she can’t place, but it is hot and settles in her gut.

When the door to Lysithea’s room shuts behind them, she becomes keenly aware of their proximity within her own living quarters. Of course, they had been alone together before, but never in her own room. The air feels just slightly warmer and her sling slightly more uncomfortable.

Edelgard straightens her shoulders and immediately bustles in to the center of her room. Lysithea quirks a brow at her.

“Alright,” Edelgard says, sweeping her gaze about Lysithea’s room in detached scrutiny. “Let’s get started then, shall we?”

Lysithea nods, remembering exactly why they’ve come in the first place. She heads over to her desk, ornate black wood that protests meekly as she opens its drawer. She pulls out the tomes entrusted to her, ratty and worn with binding on the verge of collapsing from stress. She feels an odd sense of kinship with the books that is threaded with a hint of disgust. She brings them over to the small tea table settled by her window where Edelgard has sat herself. The curtains are drawn, meek sunlight seeping through where they didn’t quite meet, cutting a bright streak upon Edelgard’s profile.

It outlines the shape of her chin, the point of her nose. Her eyes cut brilliantly through that orange, lilac sharp and cold against the warm hue. Lysithea gulps. She hopes Edelgard did not notice.

Edelgard looks to her, chin rested atop her gloved knuckles. Her stare was always so intense. Lysithea knew she had a rather formidable gaze herself, but there was something domineering in Edelgard’s stare. Piercing through the flesh and past the bones into whatever could be marked for a soul. Lysithea, strangely enough, both liked and loathed it. Another part of her, one she could never help but poke at tentatively, wanted to feed that stare, put it into submission with something hungry that laid behind her ribcage. 

Fingers tightening around the musty covers of the books piled against her chest, Lysithea exhales heavily, expelling some of the frantic energy that was building up in her head and cascading down her insides.

Edelgard begins to get up again, now realizing she left the lifting to the one with a broken arm, before Lysithea tuts at her.

“Sit down! I’m fine.” She drops the books on the table with a thump, a puff of old dust rising from the aged paper and leather. “I am still quite capable of lifting a few rotten tomes, thank you.” Edelgard opens her mouth to speak but snaps it shut when Lysithea throws a glare her way. “My arm is broken Edelgard, not lopped off at the shoulder. I’m fine.”

Edelgard almost looks on the verge of sheepish, but in an instance Lysithea sees her straighten her shoulders. She grabs one of the books, immediately thumbing through it.

“Careful!” Lysithea hisses. “Those books are old and brittle and you tend to have a rather rough grip.” Lysithea eyes the hand curled around the spine, old parchment clearly giving to the strength behind Edelgard’s fingers.

This time Edelgard does look sheepish. “Sorry,” she says curtly. “I’m just a little eager, is all.” Her hold on the book loosens and Lysithea feels the tension in her own shoulders go with it. Lysithea is about to sit down when Edelgard speaks up again, nose now buried in the book and eyes drawn into the pages. She does not even look up.

“Do you have a quill and parchment? I suspect we’ll be taking down several notes.”

Lysithea almost lets out a loud sigh, but suppresses it as she marches over to her desk. She soon returns to the table, setting down a hefty pile of paper and one ink quill and well.

“Sorry, only one quill,” Lysithea says. Edelgard still does not look up, but she waves a dismissive hand.

“Perfectly acceptable. I’m sure we can make do with just one.”

Lysithea nods even though Edelgard probably doesn’t notice. She goes to pick up the quill before immediately realizing a problem. Her right hand is her dominant one. And her right arm is broken.

“Great,” she grumbles. “This really is just one misfortune after another today, isn’t it?” She rubs the space between her brows, hoping to soothe away the tension that grips her there.

“Hm?” Edelgard finally looks up from her book, eyes flickering to Lysithea’s broken arm, and then the quill, and then back to her arm again.

“Oh,” she says, “You’re right-handed, aren’t you?”

“Aggravating, really,” Lysithea says. “I really should have taken up those ambidextrous lessons so many nobles are keen on.”

Edelgard actually produces a small laugh, placing her book down. “I’m actually ambidextrous myself. No lessons required, however.” She waves her left hand in a mock gesture, a mirthful smile on her face. “Unfortunate I can’t give you one of my hands. I suppose I’ll just have to do the writing for both of us.”

Lysithea just gives another grumble, this one in agreement. “If that’s the case, I’m going to need you to come over to my side.”

Edelgard gives her an incredulous look. “Why?”

Lysithea rolls her eyes. “Because I’m not leaning over the table every time I need to make an annotation to your notes.”

Edelgard purses her lips, but she obeys and scoots her chair next to Lysithea’s, book brought along with her. She settles back down, hand reaching for the quill. Her arm brushes against Lysithea’s, no longer shielded by a cape that was now neatly discarded to the side. She is hit with the scent of Edelgard, close and smelling of black tea and sugar. Lysithea taps her fingers roughly against the tabletop.

The moment that stretches after seems too long to Lysithea, dragging and pulling her senses to an agonizing slowness. It feels like minutes before Edelgard speaks up again even though she knows it has only been seconds.

“Are you wearing a new perfume?” Edelgard is concentrated on her work again, quill scratching away as she looks back and forth between the book and the parchment. Lysithea doesn’t even think her eyes flicker in her direction. “It smells nice.”

Lysithea feels her brain stutter and a prickle of heat rise up her neck. “Uhm.” She feels herself stumbling over herself and realizes she cannot look at Edelgard in this moment. “Yes, actually,” she answers. “Hilda sent it to me, as a gift.” And probably to mock her. But she had to admit, it was a rather nice perfume. She gives a nervous chuckle. “I’m surprised it survived all the blood.”

“Oh?” Lysithea is staring hard at the open book in front of her, but she can feel Edelgard’s gaze briefly pass over her. “I didn’t know you two kept in touch all that much.” Lysithea keeps her eyes locked on the page before her. It was explaining the theoretical process of centrifuging blood to create a potent health elixir. She tries to replace the smell of Edelgard with the smell of condensed and imbued blood.

“We don’t, really, to be honest with you.” Lysithea chances a glance back towards Edelgard again and instantly locks eyes with her. Something sharp swims behind her pupils. “The gift was a surprise. Maybe she was getting nostalgic for the monastery days.”

That sharpness dulls somewhat, but only just. Edelgard rests her chin on the back of her hand, quill now resting loosely in her grip. “I didn’t peg her as the sentimental type.”

Lysithea feels herself blush. “I’m not entirely sure it was sentimental.” Edelgard raises an eyebrow, pupils sharpening again. “I used to… steal her perfume.” Lysithea closes her eyes, feeling her ears burn. She is glad she keeps them covered.

Edelgard is silent for a moment. She then raises the hand beneath her chin to her mouth, covering a laugh that was teetering on the edge of a snort. Her eyes are closed and a light blush has dusted her cheeks when Lysithea looks fully at her again. Her heart thumps just a little too loudly in her chest.

“It’s not that funny.” Lysithea can feel her face crack, a smile worming its way out of her embarrassment. “Stop laughing.” She pushes Edelgard’s arm, the taut bicep not even budging.

“I’m sorry, it’s just,” Edelgard places her hand against her face, laughs teetering out into a gentle amusement, “you never struck me as the type of person to steal perfume, of all things.”

“Yeah, well, I was fifteen and desperate to get people to take me seriously.” Lysithea leans back in her chair, head tilting to give her a full view of Edelgard, cheeks red and pink lips curving in a smile. She flickers her eyes back to Edelgard’s own.

Edelgard’s smile turns a little less mirthful and a bit softer. She places a gloved hand over Lysithea’s left one. Lysithea feels her heart jump at the sudden contact. “If it’s any consolation, I took you seriously. Maybe a bit too much.”

Lysithea scoffs before swallowing thickly. “I guess I can believe that. You may have treated me like an invalid at first, but that’s still better than a child.”

Edelgard frowns. “That was never my intention. I was just… worried. You worked yourself much too hard, Lysithea.”

Lysithea feels her eyebrows bunch together in a scowl. “I know you were worried, but I wasn’t just going to laze around while my life slipped away uselessly every second I wasn’t using it.”

Edelgard looks contemplative, a hint of sadness washing over her demeanor. Lysithea decides quite suddenly that she greatly dislikes it.

“I’m sorry. Truly, I understand what it’s like to be short on time.”

Lysithea sighs deeply. “You’re the only one who does.”

“Which is why,” Edelgard continues, “you need to not push yourself too much. We may both be short on time, but something I’ve come to learn is that we can’t be in a rush to cut it even shorter.” Edelgard straightens up again, hands smoothing over the pages in the book still sat idly in front of her. “We can, and will, make ourselves time.”

Lysithea is quiet as Edelgard takes up the quill again. She traces the line of Edelgard’s fingers wrapped around the quill, delicate in their form but strong in their grip. She follows that up her arm, to the sliver of neck that peaks above her collar, just below her sharp jawline. Lysithea feels a sudden burning rush up her spine and fill the space behind her lungs. Her shortened lifespan pushes an incessant need to the forefront of her mind, and she feels her fingers tap themselves against the wood of the tabletop again.

“Edelgard,” Lysithea says, just managing to keep the dry croak out of her voice. “Maybe we should take a break now.”

Edelgard looks up at her, slightly bewildered. “What? I mean, I know I said not to push ourselves but… we did only just start?” She says this like a question, genuine confusion on her face. Lysithea feels her fingertips shudder as the need to replace the cold of the tabletop with something else shoots through her.

“I know.” Lysithea turns herself towards Edelgard, knees knocking up against hers and sending electricity, sharp and stimulating, up between her legs. “But you said we’d make ourselves time.”

Edelgard narrows her eyes, confusion still evident in her face. She has set the quill down now, once again abandoned in favor of Lysithea. Lysithea decides she wants to make that thought more literal.

“We should take a break,” She says more sternly. “We could use it.” She pauses, then looks directly at Edelgard, unwavering. “I could use it.”

Lysithea doesn’t think she’s quite caught on, but Edelgard seems to blush anyway, that look of bewilderment still twisting her brow.

“I need a hand, though.” She moves her unbroken arm across the table, covering the hand Edelgard had placed on hers just moments ago. The blush on Edelgard’s face deepens.

“O-oh. Why is that?”

Lysithea exhales heavily. “My dominant arm is broken.” She moves her hand over Edelgard’s, to the seam of where glove meets skin. She curls fingers inside it, just at the edge, and Edelgard’s breath hitches. Lysithea feels heat coil tightly within her.

“Lysithea-,” Edelgard begins, but she does not stop her.

“Is this okay?” Lysithea says this quietly, faint as a breath. Edelgard is still for a moment, but then she nods. Lysithea then curls her fingers more firmly beneath the fabric, slowly tugging it off to reveal a myriad of faint scars, symmetrical and precise. Lysithea rubs a thumb over them as she removes the glove fully and she feels Edelgard shiver.

“Do you think you could use this hand? My broken arm won’t be in the way.” She can see the dilation in Edelgard’s irises, lilac now seeming a deep violet with her pupils so wide. Edelgard nods, the hand rolling over to curl around Lysithea’s own. She slowly moves it up Lysithea’s arm, the loose cotton tickling the skin beneath. Lysithea feels herself breathe heavily as Edelgard’s left hand meets her collarbone, slightly exposed from the loose-fitting top.

Edelgard’s other hand wraps around Lysithea’s torso, beneath her broken arm so as not to disturb it. She pulls them together flush, and Lysithea can now fully feel the heat radiating from Edelgard’s body. Her blood speeds up as Edelgard drags her left hand down Lysithea’s chest, fingers only lightly grazing against her breast on the way down to her stomach. Lysithea bites her tongue to keep herself from keening.

The feel of Edelgard’s bare hand on Lysithea’s stomach hits like ice and fire simultaneously. As her palm slowly caresses upwards, Lysithea can feel their scars meeting, surgical cuts long closed over embracing. It makes the back of her eyes sting, her vision feel watery. But the red-hot fire in her head and between her legs pushes it away, stoked further as Edelgard’s fingertips dance over her chest.

She can’t help but lean into Edelgard, pushing herself against Edelgard’s hand. She can feel Edelgard’s shaky breath against her neck and it makes her tremble.

She feels her own hand, trapped between them, reach out and grip Edelgard’s thigh, nails digging in past the layers of fabric. Edelgard gives a small sound from the back of her throat but does not comment. Instead, she cups Lysithea’s breast fully now, kneading in a slow rhythm that causes Lysithea to shift her legs, pressure long since building nagging at her.

Lysithea almost whines when Edelgard’s fingers wander again, exploring her further, ticking off every one of her ribs, the scars in between. She wonders what Edelgard’s scars look like.

When Edelgard’s hand brushes against the hem of Lysithea’s pants, she inhales sharply. She turns her head into the crook of Edelgard’s neck as fingers trace over the skin that meets the fabric of her trousers. She feels her nose bump against Edelgard’s pulse and Lysithea feels her swallow.

“Edelgard,” she breathes out in a warning, and Edelgard takes the hint to slip her fingers past the waistband of Lysithea’s pants. Lysithea shudders and instinctively moves her lips against the apex of Edelgard’s jaw and neck, feeling the blood thump quickly beneath the skin. Edelgard gives a shaky but quiet gasp, fingers digging into the bones of Lysithea’s pelvis for just a moment. Lysithea mouths Edelgard’s jaw more aggressively, hips rocking up against her hand.

This spurs Edelgard on, her hold on Lysithea firming up as her hand caresses steadily, tracing the jutting of her hips beneath fabric. She pushes her cheek against Lysithea, pushing her away from Edelgard’s neckline. Lysithea gives an indignant whine that turns into a high gasp as Edelgard begins to kiss the pale expanse of her neck. Lysithea lifts the hand that had been gripping Edelgard’s thigh, wrapping it around Edelgard’s head and taking a handful of silky hair into her grip, pulling it taut against her scalp. Edelgard bites in response, eliciting a moan from Lysithea, held back behind clenched teeth.

She cranes her head back, allowing Edelgard more access. Edelgard’s hand trails between her legs, urging Lysithea to spread them. Edelgard sucks on Lysithea’s rapid pulse as she dances her fingers along the inside of Lysithea’s thigh. Lysithea in turn tugs harshly on Edelgard’s hair.

Lysithea feels her knees shake when she feels the ghost of fingertips over her smallclothes. The feeling passes over again, firmer. Lysithea can feel the wetness sticking to the cloth as Edelgard continues to pass over, touch too light and teasing. She white knuckles the back of Edelgard’s head.

She does not manage to muffle the next gasp that rushes through her, the sudden press against her slit and a hand on her breast pinpricked by Edelgard’s tongue running itself hot and wet up her jaw and to her ear. She moans as quietly as she can as Edelgard begins to rub circles through the fabric.

“Edelgard,” Lysithea knows she sounds desperate, “please.”

“Hm?” Edelgard hums against her ear, the vibrations shooting through Lysithea’s nerves and making her shiver.

“Edelgard,” she says more fiercely now, “I’m not going to say please again.”

Edelgard laughs, so softly, and it stokes the fire burning between her legs and makes something in her heart twinge. “Alright, I’m just enjoying myself, is all.”

Lysithea is about to snipe back when she feels Edelgard slip her fingers beneath her undergarments, swiping through the wetness that pulls away with it. Lysithea cries out as the length of a finger passes through her folds, spreading the wetness there up and around her clit. She bites her lip, chewing at it feverishly as Edelgard circles her slowly and tugs at her ear with teeth.

Her hips jerk involuntarily, chasing the light pressure of Edelgard’s finger. She inhales sharply as that finger slips down and inside her, curling in and out at a steady pace before adding a second that stretches her into a shock of pleasure. She ruts again Edelgard’s palm, the heel of it now pushed against her clit as her fingers move back and forth.

Another moan rumbles deep in her chest, threatening to pitch into a whine as Edelgard’s palm pushes harder against her. The white heat floods her nerves, coursing to between her legs and behind her lips. She does not think as she turns her head, pushing against Edelgard’s. Their cheeks rub together as Lysithea catches Edelgard in a desperate kiss, sloppy and open mouthed.

Edelgard stills for just a second in surprise, but then pushes back hard against her, both with her mouth and her palm. Lysithea moans into her mouth as Edelgard’s fingers sink in deeper, the heel of her hand rubbing in harsh circles with every inward motion.

Lysithea bites Edelgard’s bottom lip, hard enough for it to split and bleed. Edelgard does not make a sound of pain, but her mouth does open in protest. Lysithea surges forth hungrily, taking Edelgard’s tongue into her mouth and sucking on it, copper mixing with the taste of her.

Edelgard’s fingers come out of her and Lysithea feels the loss of them only for a second before those fingers find her clit again, pushing insistently and rubbing her into submission.

The fever pitch of Edelgard’s fingers runs tandem with her tongue, the slick heat of it sliding against the roof of Lysithea’s mouth.

Edelgard bites her tongue just as her fingers increase their pressure and pace, and Lysithea feels something airy feel her head as her toes curl. She comes with a low moan covered by Edelgard’s mouth, arm shuddering around her head and melting her into a slump as she rides out the high on the slowing rhythm of Edelgard’s hand.

She feels her legs tremble in the aftershocks of her orgasm, Edelgard’s fingers stilling against her. She does not remove them when she gives Lysithea a soft but deep kiss.

“Thanks,” Lysithea says breathlessly when they part, face red and neck covered in sweat. Edelgard just gives her nose a small kiss. Lysithea doesn’t even complain.

Lysithea is brought back to herself when she feels Edelgard’s hand slip out from her pants, cold quickly replacing the heat they provided.

Edelgard’s face is flushed when she looks at her freed hand, wet and sticky.

“I’m… not sure what I should wipe this on.” She looks flustered, eyes flicking about in embarrassment. Lysithea, catching her breath, grabs Edelgard’s wrist. Edelgard’s eyes turn sharply to her.

Lysithea brings Edelgard’s fingers to her lips, taking the wet ones into her mouth and curling her tongue around them. Edelgard makes a distressed sound but her eyes do not leave Lysithea’s mouth.

Lysithea removes the fingers from her mouth, wiping the saliva off on her cotton shirt.

“I don’t think the soldier who owned these will need them back,” she says. Edelgard swallows visibly.

“I-I see.” She is still looking intensely at Lysithea, at her mouth. Lysithea moves closer, mouth hovering close to Edelgard’s.

There is a sharp rush of air as Edelgard breathes out through her nose, eyes dilating. Lysithea looks at her. “Yes?”

Edelgard is silent for a moment. Her face somehow becomes redder. “May I?”

Lysithea rolls her eyes. “Really?”

Edelgard does not say anything more, instead leaning her head forward to kiss Lysithea again. Lysithea kisses back, gentle this time. Edelgard’s lip has already stopped bleeding. When they part, Edelgard leans their foreheads together.

They jerk back from one another sharply as a loud knock echoes from the door, their necks both whipping towards it.

“Lady Edelgard, Lysithea.” Hubert’s voice comes clear through the dark brown wood. Lysithea feels her pulse quicken and she is almost certain that Edelgard’s is even more erratic.

She looks back to Edelgard, eyes wide and face glowing pink. Her white hair is disheveled, Lysithea having pulled it roughly out of its ponytail. Edelgard quickly snaps into action, scrambling out of their embrace, hand reaching up to fix her hair as she stands.

“Yes, Hubert? What do you need?” She keeps her voice calm, but Lysithea can see the vague panic in her face. Lysithea almost laughs as she more languidly pulls herself together.

“Apologies, Lady Edelgard, I was informed you’d be here by Linhardt. I hope I have not… interrupted anything.”

Edelgard stiffens up, the red of her arms caging her head in sharp angles as she struggles to fix her hair. Lysithea holds a clenched fist against her mouth, trying not to laugh.

“Did-,” the panic seeps through, just a bit, “-did you… hear anything?”

Lysithea gives her an incredulous look, physically straining herself not to burst out laughing. Edelgard realizes her blundering of words, gritting her teeth and wincing at Lysithea’s expression.

“I mean,” she says again, “have you heard anything back from the healers on that spell?” Edelgard cringes at her own save, and Lysithea shakes her head into her palm.

There is a pause at the door. Then, Hubert speaks again. “Not much.” His voice is clipped, knowing. “I was hoping to request your aid, and miss Ordelia’s as well, if she is well enough.”

Edelgard bites her lip, kneading at the small cut there, shoulders hunching around her ears. Lysithea speaks up this time.

“I am perfectly well, thank you. Edelgard and I can help you with whatever it is you need. Just give us a few moments and we shall meet you in the Emperor’s chambers.”

Lysithea can almost hear the bow in Hubert’s voice. “Of course. I will be waiting for you there.”

They hear a flutter of a cape and then Hubert’s receding footsteps, seemingly and purposefully loud and conspicuous. Edelgard releases a burst of held air as she cradles her face in her palms.

“Oh dear, he knows exactly what we were doing.” Her ears are bright red against the ivory of her hair, only half fixed.

“Most definitely,” Lysithea says, amused. “Could be worse. He could have walked in on us.”

Edelgard shudders, dragging her hands down her face. “Perish the thought, please, Lysithea.” She brings a hand up to her forehead, eyes closed in exasperation. “I’m already dreading the passive and roundabout talk of not endangering your health with ‘escapades of fancy’.”

“Oh, I can already hear it in his voice,” Lysithea says mirthfully, smiling fully at Edelgard. Edelgard grimaces.

She sits down roughly back into her chair, hands folding loosely over her lap. She sighs wearily, eyes closed in contemplation. “Honestly, I can’t blame him. I know he’s not the most expressive, but he was deeply affected by your injury, as was I.” She exhales, opening her eyes and piercing Lysithea with lilac. “He was scared for your wellbeing. We both were.”

She pauses and Lysithea allows her the silence. She speaks again.

“I’ve always been scared for you.” She reaches out, bare hand resting on Lysithea’s own, touching the scars that marred her skin. Lysithea looks down at their joined hands.

“You don’t have to be scared for me,” Lysithea finally says, looking up and upturning her palm to entangle her fingers with Edelgard’s. “I’m not scared for either of us. We’ll make it through this.”

Something seems to break behind Edelgard’s eyes, the purple of her irises wavering like a stone beneath water. She exhales shakily and squeezes Lysithea’s hand.

“Yes,” she says, voice growing determined and stalwart. “We will.”

They hold their gaze, hands embracing between them.

“I’m going to kiss you,” Lysithea says like a fact. Edelgard just looks at her.

“Alright,” she says.

And then Lysithea does.

When they part, Edelgard looks past Lysithea’s head, a thought entering her mind.

“I’m a bit embarrassed to admit this,” she starts, “but would you believe me if I said I was afraid Hilda was courting you?”

Lysithea laughs, loud and unimpeded. “Really?”

Edelgard scowls, face turning red again. “Well, when you mentioned she got you the perfume it just… made sense.”

Lysithea’s laugh dies down to an amused hum, standing up and pulling Edelgard with her. “Well, even if Hilda was one for courting, I don’t reciprocate.”

“Oh?” Edelgard raises a brow, an earnest worry creasing her face.

“Edelgard.” Her voice is dry and deadpan. “I just asked you to rub me off. I’m very clearly not interested in her.”

The red of Edelgard’s cheeks spread to her ears and she coughs into her free hand. “Yes, well.” She pointedly avoids Lysithea’s withering gaze. “I just wanted to be sure.”

Lysithea shakes her head, bringing her hand up to her forehead. “For being the emperor who united Fodlan, you can be rather hopeless sometimes.”

Edelgard glares, lips pursed and tight. “I’m just trying to be diligent in my relations.”

“ _I’m_ diligent.” Lysithea tugs her forward and looks down at her. “ _You’re_ just lacking in certainty.”

Edelgard upturns her nose, straightening her back in an attempt to rival Lysithea’s height. “I am anything but uncertain.”

“Then be certain that I’d rather be courting you than Hilda,” Lysithea says, pulling Edelgard the last few inches between them to tilt her head down and kiss her. With a note of amusement, she can feel the indignant frown still on Edelgard’s face even as she kisses back.

“Fine,” she says as they pull apart. “I will hold you to it.” Lysithea rolls her eyes in response.

Lysithea reaches up, hand fiddling with Edelgard’s sloppily redone side ponytail. “This is such a weird hairstyle. It also still looks like a mess.” Edelgard looks affronted. “Let me redo it for you.”

Edelgard narrows her eyes. “You only have one hand.”

“And I will still be able to do this better than you, despite it.” She wears a smug smile at Edelgard’s pout. “Sit down. We can’t keep Hubert waiting or he’ll come after us again.”

Despite Edelgard’s ability to resist Lysithea’s strength with ease, she immediately yields to Lysithea pushing down on her shoulder to seat her. As she begins working on Edelgard’s hair, she notices her looking at the abandoned books, crinkled pages open and yawning.

“We’ll have to continue our study on these later. Maybe even enlist Hubert or Linhardt’s help.” Edelgard’s voice is soft and contemplative. “I have a good feeling about them.”

Lysithea hums. “I do too.”


End file.
